Yo Momma
by Artisticmom2
Summary: A night of relaxing with poker and drinks leads to an interesting linguistic discussion. Written in response to The Delphic Expanse's June 2012 word prompt of "your mother". Please note there is some mild language.


Many thanks to Kylah618 for wielding the red pen.

Many thanks to the Vulcan Language Dictionary.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

"Fold" Malcolm said in disgust as he tossed his cards face down into the pool of light on the table.

"Hah," hooted Trip, scooping the chips towards himself.

This was the last round in a long night of poker playing. The senior crew didn't often get the chance to let their hair down and relax this way, but when they did they played poker as if they were out for blood. The last round had been long and arduous for the final players; the rest of the crew however, had loved every minute of byplay between the two combatants.

Travis reached over and flipped Trip's cards face up, curious to see what the Chief Engineer had beaten the Armory officer with. The whole crew knew that Malcolm was a force to be reckoned with in general and poker in particular. His steely blue-eyed glare made a tremendously good poker face and he was rarely beaten. Travis's eyebrows rose and his mouth formed a small 'o' as he saw what Trip had bluffed with.

Malcolm glanced at the cards. "Shite! A pair of bloody fours? That's what you had? You pikey Yank," he exclaimed, his face flushing with anger.

Hoshi covered her mouth, stifling a giggle and flipped over Malcolm's cards to reveal a pair of tens. Not a strong hand, but much stronger than the fours that Trip had played.

Trip started to chuckle as he continued to stack his chips. "Jiminy Christmas, Malcolm, you could have figured it out if you already hadn't been three sheets to the wind." He pointed with his chin towards the half empty bottle of Andorian Ale that sat at Malcolm's side.

The Captain, sipping his beer and enjoying Malcolm's unusual loss, suddenly looked stern. "Alright you two, there are ladies present."

T'Pol looked at Hoshi, her own eyebrow raised in question. "I thought I understood Basic English rather well after my time on Earth but I fail to see what the captain is objecting to and why it should matter that we are present."

Hoshi composed her face and turned to T'Pol, now in full teacher mode. "Malcolm is upset with losing the round and swore at Trip. 'Shite' is a British term for excrement, and is often used to punctuate someone's extreme annoyance at something. Now 'pikey Yank' refers to Trip's origins, although I believe his parents were considered middle class as 'pikey' refers to a low financial class, and he definitely wasn't from New England, which is the traditional region of the States that Yankees are from - although to the British, anyone from America could be called a Yank." She paused and took a sip of her wine and then continued. "Trip bantered right back using a slang phrase for the Christian Savior, whose name many use as a swear word - also to accentuate annoyance, and then followed it up with claiming that the Lieutenant was too inebriated to play well."

Trip nodded as he continued to count and stack chips. "Damn straight, you sure can decode tongue twisters, but I guess that's why the captain hired you," he said approvingly.

Hoshi smiled at him, took another sip and finished her mini language lecture. "As to what the captain is objecting to, for humans it is considered inappropriate to use coarse language in front of women."

T'Pol digested this information for a moment and then nodded. "I see. Could they not have expressed themselves more clearly?" she asked.

The captain responded before Hoshi could answer. "They could have, but sometimes humans get a little passionate and use words better off not said in polite company." He sent a significant look to both the men.

"Aw come on Captain, I've heard you let loose with a few choice words on occasion. I remember one time when we were trying to get the warp program back on its feet..." He trailed off, smiling at the slow flush spreading across the captain's face.

"Yes, well... I was younger then," the captain replied lamely, and took a long swig of his beer.

"My father had a few good ones he used on occasion when my mother wasn't around," Travis offered, taking the attention off the captain.

"But I had thought boomers were a rather salty lot, like Earth's sailors of old," replied Malcolm, getting over his earlier upset. He started to collect and neaten the deck of cards.

Travis shrugged, "Some of them, but Dad ran a tight ship because Mom always said that cussing showed a lack of intelligence." He got up to and started removing empty bottles from the table; all but T'Pol had indulged tonight.

"I don't know, some curse words are pretty creative so one could argue that, from a linguistic standpoint, coming up with them and using them correctly shows some ingenuity," replied Hoshi, her eyes on a point in the distance, as she pondered the plethora of derogative phrases she knew.

"Ah," said T'Pol, understanding coming across her face. "A Human custom, then."

"Now, hold on a minute there T'Pol," said Trip. "I'm sure almost every race in the universe has some form of cursing. Isn't that right Hoshi?" He glanced at her for affirmation.

Before Hoshi could answer Phlox got up from the table, stretched, and said, "I know that on Denobula we have some doozies. In fact, once when I was courting my third wife we were out at a bar and this other man came up and challenged me and said..." He trailed off, catching the stern eye of the captain. "Well," he flushed slightly, "It was a very heated exchange of words." He went to find another drink.

Coming out of her reverie, she smiled at Phlox's truncated story and sipped at her glass of wine. Changing the topic she said, "To answer your question Commander, you're right. Off the top of my head I can't think of any races I've encountered that don't. Some races turn swearing into a veritable art form like the Klingons and the Tellurites."

The captain laughed. "Some of the words you taught me in preparation for that meeting with the Tellurites were quite unusual!" He shook his head, remembering, and then continued. "It was pretty funny to hear them coming out of your mouth. I had a hard time not laughing." He winked at her, sharing the joke.

She smiled broadly in response and sighed, an angelic look coming over her face. "I know, people can never get over the fact that I'm not as angelic as I look." She fluttered her eyelashes mockingly.

All but T'Pol laughed at Hoshi's antics. T'Pol sipped at her glass of water and said, "There is no 'cursing' on Vulcan."

"Oh no?" replied Trip, a disbelieving look in his eye. He turned to the captain. "But I thought you said that Soval said something off color that one time when you guys were pinned down on that planet being shot at by the Andorians."

"I don't recall the ambassador saying anything inappropriate at the time," T'Pol protested in her calm Vulcan fashion, her body stiffening ever so slightly.

"Well," the captain ventured, trying to keep the peace. "He seemed a little heated at the time."

"What about _Bath'paik_?" chimed in Hoshi.

T'Pol shifted slightly. "That is considered more of an...oath. I don't think it would fall into the same linguistic category."

"What's it mean Hoshi?" asked Malcolm.

"Damn you." she replied. "But the times I've read it being used in Vulcan literature there is generally some heat behind it." She thought a bit more and then giggled. "What about this T'Pol? _Yanamo ko-mekh tong'av klufs askital!" _Hoshi rattled off.

T'Pol, who had been taking a sip of her water, almost choked. Clearing her throat she said, "Where did you hear that?"

"Oh, somewhere," replied Hoshi, being coy.

"This one must be really bad if T'Pol's so rattled," said Trip, smiling.

"Well, it can be. And every language I know has some version of it or another." Hoshi replied. "Most of the time it'll bring on a fight faster than any of the curses I know. Except in Klingon. In Klingon, this is actually a compliment."

"So," asked Travis, "what does it mean?" his eyes gleaming eagerly.

T'Pol and Hoshi looked at each other. Hoshi's eyebrow rose in a perfect imitation of T'Pol's characteristic gesture. "Go ahead," she said to the Vulcan.

T'Pol looked around the table, noting the avid looks her crew mates were giving her. She cleared her throat, and said clearly, "Your matriarch wears martial footwear."

They all looked at each other for a long moment, and then the table exploded into laughter.

Trip regained control of himself, wiping his eyes, and said "I can see how that would be a compliment on Qu'noS!"


End file.
